Secret Lovers
by YH
Summary: Two characters involved in a forbidden affair.


_Here we are, the two of us together  
Takin' this crazy chance to be all alone  
We both know that we should not be together  
'Cause if we're found out, it could mess up  
Both our happy homes_

"It took you long enough to get here. I've been waiting for twenty minutes. I have a life, a career, you know. The world does not revolve around your time schedule. Take off your clothes and let's get to it," she commanded, lying against the pale blue thousand thread count Egyptian cotton sheets.

He didn't say a word; instead he began to follow her orders. He removed his Tom Ford jacket and his spit shined D & G black leather loafers, but that was where the following ended. "You think you're funny? Trying to sound like her? Be like her? I'll show you funny."

The woman's hard resolve dissipated instantly; a mixture of fear and laughter overtook her as she quickly tried to curl into a ball to escape him, but to no avail.

He ripped the sheet off her nude body, captured her kicking legs, and beginning at her big toe slowly began to kiss, lick and suck.

She was a goner. And because of her behavior, she knew it would be a long time before she would get the completion only he could give her. It would be a long night of being brought to the very cusp, and then let down again. Damn her and her not so funny jokes.

_I hate to think about us all meeting up together  
'Cause as soon as I look at you it will show on my face, yeah  
Then they'll know that we've been loving each other  
We can't let 'em know, no, no, no  
We can't leave a trace_

She was looking at him too much. If she didn't stop they would be caught. Everyone would find out. She wasn't cut out for this. The secrecy. The lies. What a tangled web we weave.

He smirked. She was such a novice, but that was one of the things he loved about her. The air of innocence that still clung to her. The goodness. Traits he had left behind as soon as he could use the bathroom by himself. Did she think staring at each course for an inordinate amount of time was acting normal? He knew she feared someone would look at them and tell what they were up to, but he had reminded her time and time again that this wasn't a romance book and them making eye contact during dinner wasn't going to shock their families with the electricity of their looks or the heat radiating from them being near each other. That answer had earned him a pout and a glare because she felt he was being condescending and not taking her fears as real. He had to remind himself that she wasn't used to this. She was raised to be a faithful wife.

_Secret lovers, yeah, that's what we are  
We should not be together  
But we can't let go, no, no  
'Cause we love each other so_

_Ooh…ooh…_

How had she allowed herself to become an adulterer? She could clearly remember that day in the park. She had been mad as hell at her husband. She wanted more children. He was happy with the two they had. He thought their lives were perfect. His life was perfect. As he expanded his ever growing bar and grill empire, he had a loving wife awaiting him after a long day at work and two adoring children who thought he was better than a superhero. What did she have? He didn't want her to work so she stayed home. At first she was happy being a stay-at-home wife and mother, but once the kids started school there was only so many times you could mop the floors or rearrange the furniture. Only so many dozens of cookies to bake. She followed his mother's suggestion and tried to join the junior league, but those women were too phony. And the one friend she did make, she only got to talk to in between her friend's charity meetings and rendezvous with the pool boy.

So she had sat on that park bench mad at the world, but particularly men, when he came up next to her with a pure vanilla ice blended with whip cream on top. The drink put a smile on her face. And his words, "What did dufus do now?" made her laugh out loud.

It had begun so simply- -two people talking. Two people who felt like talking to their spouses was like talking to a brick wall. So they would meet in out of the way places and talk. For two non-nature people, they spent a lot of time outdoors, walking, and even hiking. They enjoyed each other's company.

_Sittin' at home, I do nothin' all day  
But I think about you and hope that you're okay  
Hopin' you'll call before anyone gets home  
I wait anxiously alone by the phone_

She had told him once she missed the old days of letters and phone calls, not texts, IMs, and emails, then one day an unaddressed envelope had arrived in the mail. She opened it and discovered a key taped to a piece of paper containing an address. Since the house was spotless and dinner had been made, she decided to go on this mini-adventure which led her out of town to a Mailbox Etc store and a post office box. Inside the PO was a letter; she quickly ripped it open as she walked to the car. The unaddressed envelope contained a four page letter filled with tales of a young boy finding adventures and mischief at boarding schools. She laughed until tears fell. Once a week she drove outside of town to read letters about things in the news, childhood stories, long buried hopes and dreams. She was seeing a side of him that she hadn't seen since their ill-fated romance years before.

And once a day, he would call regardless of where he was. They would talk about everything and nothing. He respected her opinions on business decisions, something her husband rarely asked her for. And he encouraged her to leave the Betty Crocker apron in the kitchen and to go to business school as she had been secretly yearning to do. He told her she was more than a Stepford wife. She laughed when he said that because that's how she had started to feel. Sometimes he knew her better than she knew herself. He was able to bring out a side of her no one else could. The adventurous side. The side that reminded her of her mother.

_How could something so wrong be so right  
I wish we didn't have to keep our love out of sight, yeah  
Living two lives just ain't easy at all  
But we gotta hang on in there or fall_

"You need to ask before you pick up a piece of paper and start writing on it, okay?" she reprimanded, trying hard to remain calm.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Mommy," the little boy apologized.

Reaching over, she pulled her son into her arms and hugged him fiercely. "Now go watch Phineas and Ferb with your sister." She watched as he ran off to join his sibling, and then breathed a sigh of relief. That had been close. She hadn't realized she had left his letters out on her bed. All she needed was for her husband to have found their son's "I love you, Daddy" written on a letter with content not meant for children's eyes.

It was so hard to keep the lies straight. If her husband wasn't so busy, he might have noticed her absences. Thank God, her father, step-mother, brother, and sister were so happy to spend time with her children that they didn't ask questions when she asked for impromptu babysitting or asked to schedule specific grandparent/grandchildren time along with aunt/uncle/niece/nephew time.

And the guilt. She had almost yelled at her son because he had seen a piece of paper and decided to write a simple phrase to his dad. She had almost yelled because his simple phrase would have exposed her secret and destroyed their lives. Her husband was loving and forgiving. She knew he loved her enough to forgive her for having an affair, particularly once he stood back and saw how his behavior in the husband department was lacking. But to have an affair with this man, with the man he despised- - his brother- - that would be unforgivable. Unforgivable. The risk of exposure was humungous. If discovered, both of their lives would be decimated and those of their children. Yet still with the threat, she couldn't let go. She couldn't let go of him. So she would continue with her double life.

_Secret lovers, yeah, that's what we are  
We should not be together  
But we can't let go, no, no  
'Cause we love each other so_

They never talked about the future. They never verbally discussed where they would next meet. Over time, they had found a routine, a rhythm and stuck with it. During the summer, they met at a cabin by the lake. During the winter, they met at an extended stay hotel. They never discussed leaving their spouses.

He knew she had the fairy tale life with her husband and her kids. She was an excellent wife and mother; dufus had gotten lazy and comfortable and had forgotten what a treasure he possessed. She loved raising her children, like she was raised before her parents divorced. She had a special lilt in her voice when she spoke of the years where she, her mother, her father, and her brother were one big happy family. And she was going to make sure her children had the same memories.

His wife was a daddy's girl, but he knew that when he married her. Unfortunately her daddy hated him which put his wife in a very precarious state. She chose him enough to keep him there. But really what kept him there was their children. Although they had well-adjusted children, he saw the pain in his step-son's eyes, his daughter's eyes on Sunday evenings when they left to go live with their other parents. He vividly remembered being shuttled back and forth during school breaks between his mother and his father. He saw the way his son lost his zest for life for a while after his siblings went to their other homes. He loved his wife, and they were both committed to making sure their children never felt the sting of divorce ever again.

_Secret lovers, yeah, that's what we are  
Tryin' so hard to hide the way we feel  
'Cause we both belong to someone else  
But we can't let go  
'Cause what we feel is, oh, so real  
So real, so real_

The first time they made love hadn't been planned. They were having a picnic by an abandoned cabin they had discovered. They were talking, laughing, and enjoying the sun, when she accidentally spilled wine on herself. As she frantically tried to find a napkin to clean herself up, he stopped her.

"Let me help," he had said, his hands holding hers still. Then he leaned over and licked the wine from her cleavage. Sucking and biting when necessary. They had made love in front of all nature.

She had waited for the shame and guilt to come, and it had but not in the way she expected. She had thought she would be so remorseful. That the guilt would be evident to everyone who saw her, but it wasn't. Yes, she felt guilty and she knew she had done wrong, but she also knew their lovemaking was a culmination of the relationship they had slowly been forming over time.

Their lovemaking was better than hers and her husband's. In actuality, she found she couldn't compare the two experiences because she was a different woman when she was with him. He made her different. And she found she was okay with that.

He hadn't intended to make love to her the first time. Sex had been on his mind, but he was also enjoying having an honest to God friendship with a woman. But when he had arrived, her derriere in form-fitting jeans had been the first sight he saw, as she prepared their picnic. And when she turned to greet him the cleavage that her form-fitting tank top had been on display had him lacking the ability to speak. Yes, she had been modestly dressed, but that had turned him on more. She was being seductive without even trying and without even realizing it. And when she wasted her wine on her top, he could no longer be a gentleman; he had to have her and he had. Many, many times.

Later, he had been convinced she wouldn't want to talk to him afterwards. That things would be awkward and with much hesitation the next day, he picked up the phone and dialed. It rang once. Twice. Three times. His heart started to race. Four. Five. What would he do- -

"Hey," she said breathlessly. "Sorry, I was outside tending to my roses, lost track of time, and forgot to bring the cordless phone with me."

His heart returned to its normal rate. "Are you looking to join the rose club?"

She laughed and he felt they were back to where they used to be.

They talked, but he had to be sure. He couldn't live without her. "Are we okay?"

The phone line was silent for a full minute.

"We're hurting them. We love them, yet we're hurting them. We made vows. If they found out- - our kids," she cried softly.

He listened to her tears, her sniffles, and felt like a heel. He had taken their relationship to the next level. She hadn't protested, actually she had enjoyed it, but she never would have made the first move. She was right. He loved his wife. He loved his family. "Do you want to end this?" Whatever this was.

"No," she whispered. "No."

"Neither do I."

_You and me, are we friends  
Is this cool or do we care  
Can they tell what's in our minds  
Maybe they've had secret loves all of the time_

"That's okay, angel, wait for the right pitch," he advised loudly from the stands.

"Why am I sitting in the hot sun when I can be relaxing next to the pool or in my air-conditioned home?" his ex-wife asked out loud.

"Because my daughter wisely decided she didn't want to be a vapid female, who only cares about clothes, shoes, and money, like her mother," he responded softly so only those closest to him could hear.

"She's OUR daughter. And how dare- -" his ex-wife retorted angrily.

"Guys, let's not, okay? We're here to support the kids," his lover inserted, forever the peacemaker. "Run**,** sweetie, run."

They all cheered as his daughter ran to first base and was safe.

"Why are you calling my daughter, sweetie?" his ex-wife demanded**,** staring at his lover.

"Because despite her mother, she is a sweetheart," his wife answered.

"Did you forget our daughter is best friends with her daughter and son?" he added, pointing to his lover.

His ex-wife huffed and sat down, opening her umbrella and blocking the view of the parents behind her. He opened his mouth to say something, until he looked at his lover and she shook her head. Gazing into her eyes, he took some calming breaths. No one could calm him down faster than her. Or calm him down at all. He averted his gaze and turned back towards the field. He didn't want anyone getting suspicious, but he knew they were careful and the few seconds they looked at each other meant nothing to those surrounding them, but to them it meant everything.

Was he crazy? He was at his daughter's ballgame with his lover, her husband, his wife, his ex-wife, and waiting for his ex-wife's husband to arrive. How did his life become so complicated?

"Run, honey, run," his lover shouted, as her daughter ran the bases with his daughter in the lead. "Run, sweetie." She jumped up and down as first his daughter, then hers touched home. She hugged everyone around them in celebration. "Good job, girls."

The girls beamed back with pride.

She high-fived him and when their hands touched, he knew he would willingly and for the rest of their lives deal with all the complications life brought him to keep her in his life as his friend and his lover.

_In the middle of making love we notice the time  
We both get nervous 'cause it's way after nine  
Even though we hate it, we know it's time that we go  
We gotta be careful so that no one will know_

He collapsed on top of her back, breathing like he had run a marathon. Their panting mingled with the smells of sex and sweat in the room. He knew she loved the feel of his weight upon her, but he outweighed her and never liked to linger too long. He thoroughly enjoyed making love to her, but holding her in his arms rivaled that feeling. Rolling off of her, he pulled her into his arms and placed one of her legs between his thighs. It was getting late, he knew, but he had to hold her.

There were never words of love spoken. He wasn't sure why that was or how that developed, but it was now an unspoken rule. He had never heard those three words, words he once scoffed at, come from his beloved's lips. He had come close but she would silence him with a kiss. An understanding man would have been content with the stolen moments, with the affection he knew lied in both their hearts, but no one had ever mistaken him for an understanding man.

"You're awfully quiet," she commented softly.

"I found the girl who works in the parking garage, crying. She's been trying to find a way to parent her unborn child, finish school, and work full-time to support them, but- -"

His charm and smile had women falling at his feet and telling him their life stories. She wasn't surprised to hear about this woman.

"She asked me if I knew of anyone who would be interested in adopting her baby."

She gulped. A baby. She loved the stage her children were at. So independent. So much fun. But she longed for that Johnson & Johnson smell one more time. Able to enjoy it from start to finish, this time while being in good health. She ached at the days, weeks; she couldn't be with her twins because of her cancer. Yes, her husband was happy with their family with just the four of them, but this situation- - it was like it was Godsend. "When is she due?"

"Any day now."

"And she's still working?" she asked, appalled.

He chuckled. That's his girl always fighting for the underdog. "I sent her home with pay."

How could he say no to this situation? This was perfect. "She would want to meet the couple, right?"

"Yes and no. Right now, she seems pretty firm in wanting a closed adoption though she does want the adoptive mother in the delivery room."

Did she need another sign? This was the perfect situation for them. She would just have to convince him. "Could you give her my number?"

"I already did."

"You what?" she questioned, sitting up abruptly in the bed.

Reluctantly he sat up, too. "You sigh every time you see a commercial involving babies. Anytime a baby is in the vicinity, you're talking to its mother, asking questions, holding the baby. You talk longingly about the twins' babyhood."

She hadn't realized she had been that open about her longing for another child. A baby. She was going to be a mother again. She leapt into his arms and showered him in kisses. "Tell me everything."

"Birth mom is black. Birth dad is white. They are both healthy, intelligent people who aren't ready for the responsibility of parenthood." He could also mention that she knew the genetic mother quite intimately and the genetic father too, but he knew she would not appreciate the only way he could think of to tie them together for life. Finding and using her last remaining eggs, he had happily donated the sperm, and the embryo was implanted in the surrogate. This child, whose sex he refused to discover, was their link. And he knew and trusted one day, she would look into their child's eyes and see the truth. Dufus for sure wouldn't, but no one had ever said Ethan "Cane" Ashby-Chancellor was a bright one. And he was sure his wife, Victoria Newman-Abbott, wouldn't notice either.

Lily Amanda Ashby-Chancellor would be torn between being mad as hell at him for creating their child without her approval and being excited beyond words to have a part of their love with her every day.

Having Cane raise his son or daughter didn't thrill him with delight, but it would be worth it to see the light in Lily's eyes and to see her hold the best of them in the form of this new life.

Truly she couldn't be that upset. He was William Abbott. She knew he played for keeps and by any means necessary.

"I'm going to have a baby. I'm going to have a baby," she yelled, jumping up and down on the bed. She pulled him up to jump with her.

Yes, we are going to have a baby, my love.

_Secret lovers, yeah, that's what we are  
Trying so hard to hide the way we feel  
'Cause we both belong to someone else  
But we can't let go  
'Cause what we feel is, oh, so real  
So real, so real, so real, so real_


End file.
